


Right In Two

by mudget



Category: Captain Planet and the Planeteers
Genre: Angst, Capture, Dark, Dark fic, Gen, Torture, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudget/pseuds/mudget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the fate of his friends at stake he is forced to make an impossible decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Darkfic Challenge. This was originally intended as a one-shot, but I decided it would be better as a multi-chap fic instead. Ma-Ti also plays a significant role; I think there is a lot of potential for Ma-Ti's power to be explored, or exploited. Also, I kinda like the idea of the Planeteers getting beating up and dragged through hell :P And Mame Slaughter is a total badass who totally deserves a role in darkfic.
> 
> Warnings: While there's nothing explicit, or even any language (how did I manage that?!) in this chapter, torture is alluded to. Rating will be upped in subsequent chapters, and I'll warn for anything triggery.
> 
> The title is taken from a song by Tool of the same name. Thank you, as always to my lovely betas, frankiealton and Ozqueene! Enjoy ;)

"Just think of the potential," murmured Mame Slaughter. Her dark eyes flicked to the boy chained to the wall. Looten Plunder followed her gaze, his brow furrowed in consideration. She did make a good point, and perhaps it was time to make the Planet-punk do something useful.

Their prisoner hung limply from his restraints. Oh but he looked so pathetic. Plunder swung his gaze back to the smirking woman. It irked Plunder to concede that Slaughter's idea was a good one. But it was too good an opportunity to pass up for pettiness and ego.

"Know that it pains me to say it," Plunder said bitterly, "and even more to be working with you. But I agree, this will make us a fortune. It will also mean the end of those Planet-pains-in-my-ass for once and for all." He could practically feel the smugness radiating from her. It gave him the momentum to add tersely, "But know this, Slaughter. I expect a cut of the profits from the poaching. You have more to gain from this scheme of yours than I do. I don't need the bratto expand my Palm Oil Plantation. I'll get rich with or without you. I just want the Planeteers gone."

Slaughter pursed her lips. She knew Plunder loathed getting his hands dirty, so unless he threw Bleak in to assist with the persuasion, it would be largely up to Stalker and herself. She cast a narrow, sidelong glance at the primped businessman. At least _she_  knew how to get a job done properly.

"I'll give you ten percent," she said, finally.

"Twenty."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fifteen. And I want Bleak."

He considered her offer a moment, unsurprised she would request the help of his mercenary. Bleak would revel in the task, and if he played his cards right he might even be able to get the man to accept it as payment. On the other hand he would lose his bodyguard, and it wasn't just the Planeteers he had to worry about in this retched, humid country. His mouth twisted in distaste. Those damn animal-loving, tree-hugging hippies were so concerned over a few measly apes and worthless trees they would stop at nothing to delay his plantation works.

"Seventeen percent. Bleak will help when I can spare him, and the extra is compensation for the inconvenience."

Mame's lips drew into a thin line as she folded her arms irritably. It was more than she had been willing to part with. The plan still weighed strongly in her favour, though, and even after Plunder's cut she stood to make a tidy profit. Her lips curved into a smile. A very tidy profit indeed.

She cast the captured Planeteer a sinister smile. "Deal. Where do we start?"

"Let's start by waking up the little bastard."

* * *

 

Ma-Ti shivered despite the humidity. His hair and clothes were saturated, clinging coldly against his small frame. The now-empty bucket lay strewn on its side, several feet away, where it had been unceremoniously discarded. Its entire contents had been flung at him, waking the Planeteer with a gasp.

The damp stones of the dungeon pressed against his back. His fingers tingled with pins-and-needles and his shoulders ached, and the heavy iron shackles bit painfully into his wrists. He twisted to peer up at his hands, restrained above his head with thick chains bolted into the hard stone. They had left him with his ring.

Plunder and Slaughter had made their intent clear. It was no oversight that Ma-Ti still had his Heart ring. He was certain Kwame and Wheeler's rings had been confiscated; he could sense them still, but it was like wading through murky water. They had each been roughly shoved into a cell of their own, separated soon after they had been captured and presented to Looten Plunder and Mame Slaughter.

Gi and Linka were still out in the Sumatran jungle, gathering evidence of Mame's poaching syndicate. At least he hoped they were. The Heart Planeteer had tried to contact the girls after it was evident he, Wheeler and Kwame had no way to escape, but at the sight of his ring glowing Bleak had been swift to render the boy unconscious.

His head throbbed as testimony to Bleak's efficiency, and the evil and negativity emanating from the Eco-Villains was tangible. Afraid and exhausted, he gritted his teeth and focused his mind, pushing past the fog as he summoned his power. It took considerable effort and concentration, but he felt a wave of relief as he made contact with Gi and Linka, who were negotiating the arduous trek back to the Geocruiser. His message was brief but clear:  _'Looten Plunder and Mame Slaughter have taken us prisoner. Need help. Be careful!'_ He sent a mental image of the ruins they were being held in and tiredly withdrew, sagging against the restraints.

Closing his eyes he shuddered, contemplating Slaughter's ultimatum. Unease had rapidly spread as she laid out her intent and he suddenly envied Wheeler's easy ability to summon false bravado. He had refused to partake in their plan, to use his ring to call the elusive native animals to him. It was an inconceivable task to ask of him. One they obviously knew he would decline, for Plunder had then smugly explained what would happen if he didn't cooperate. He felt sick to his stomach that the fate of his friends lay in his hands.

Ma-Ti let out a sobbing breath, hopelessness settling over him. Already emotionally drained after stumbling across dozens of orangutan carcasses, whole sections of the rainforest cleared and decimated courtesy of Plunder's illegal operations - and with the knowledge that the Indonesian government was doing little to stop it - their current predicament only added to his despair. He hoped Linka and Gi would find a way to get them free before Plunder and Slaughter came back to hear his answer.


	2. Chapter 2

Ma-Ti awoke with a start. He had dozed off, the stress and exhaustion finally claiming him. Blinking, he wondered what had pulled him to consciousness.

The sound of voices echoed outside his cell, growing in volume as the voices' owners approached. He could make out Bleak's angry tone, though the words were lost as the sound bounced and reverberated down the stone corridor. This was followed by Wheeler's voice, distinct and playful, cut off short with a grunt. Ma-Ti winced in sympathy.

The door to his cell opened and Kwame and Wheeler, with hands trussed behind their backs, were shoved into the room ahead of Bleak and Stalker Slaughter.

"Hey, little buddy!" Wheeler greeted cheerfully. "Thought we'd drop in for a visit, compare quarters." He glanced around the room before turning to the sombre African. "I think his room is bigger than ours."

Ma-Ti found himself grinning, the American's humour contagious. He glanced to Kwame, who offered him a reassuring smile and a nod of encouragement.

Mame and Plunder sauntered into the chamber, the cell suddenly feeling cramped and oppressive. Kwame and Wheeler were forced onto their knees, facing the Heart Planeteer. Kwame knelt obediently, his back straight and extruding an air of calm despite the sweat coating his forehead. The American wasn't as cooperative but heavy hands pushed the man into subservience. Wheeler shrugged Bleak's hand off his shoulder in a show of defiance, but the henchman only sneered and pressed his fingers painfully into muscle and flesh. The Fire Planeteer clenched his jaw, his blue eyes flashing angrily.

Plunder folded his arms across his chest with a smirk. "Have you made up your mind,  _Heart boy_?"

Ma-Ti twisted his hands against the confining restraints, feeling the metal rub against raw skin. "No, Plunder. You cannot make me do this."

"Ah, but we can. And we will. I think we've been very generous, offering you a choice."

"So what'll it be?" Mame interjected smoothly. "Will you call the animals, or make your friends here pay until you do?"

Kwame and Wheeler glanced at one another, eyes wide at the revelation. Wheeler opened his mouth to argue but closed it again at the slight shake of the African's head. Instead he lifted his eyes to watch Ma-Ti, his bound hands curling into fists, and gritted his teeth.

The Kyapo swallowed. A line of sweat ran between his shoulder blades, plastered his hair to his forehead. He looked from the Eco-Villains – smug and pleased, delighting in his torment – to his friends. Waves of guilt washed through him as he looked on them. He couldn't use his ring for evil, to lead the animals to their deaths, or for a life confined to cruelty. What would Gaia think of him? But to let Wheeler and Kwame suffer as a consequence?

"Time's up, sweetheart," said Mame, finally, her hands on her hips. "Decide."

The boy could only shake his head, dejectedly. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let them corrupt the power Gaia entrusted in him. He looked to the two Planeteers, guilt twisting his features. "I am sorry, my friends. I cannot."

"It is ok, my friend," Kwame reassured. Wheeler nodded his agreement.

Feeling encouraged by their understanding, Ma-Ti declared, "I will not help you."

"I was hoping you would say that," replied Bleak, giving Wheeler's shoulder a rough shake.

"I am most disappointed you won't cooperate," said Plunder, stepping forward to stand between the kneeling figures. "So be it. Since you won't help us you can decide who will go first." He smiled darkly. Mame sneered.

Ma-Ti shook his head, clenching his eyes tightly.  _Do not make me decide._

"Pathetic," spat Mame. "I don't have all day. I'll decide if the do-gooder pansy can't. You," she said, pointing to Kwame. "You're too quiet. Let's see if we can't make you squeal." Stalker moved to lift his captor to his feet.

"What's that, Slaughter? You can't get off on the 'silent and broody' types, eh?" taunted Wheeler, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I totally get that. Between you and me, he's way too quiet and serious, if you know what I mean," he said in a mock whisper with a wink.

Mame stared at the Fire Planeteer levelly, crossing her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing," Wheeler answered innocently. "It does explain the outfit though. And the chains," he added, grinning. "I'm a bit scared to ask about the glove, though." The woman narrowed her eyes at him.

Plunder rolled his eyes. "Pick someone, Slaughter. I've got work to do. Send Bleak when you're done." He gave them all one last glance before striding out of the confining space.

Mame stood over Wheeler, peering down her nose at him. Bleak remained where he was, a hand firmly gripped on the Planeteer's shoulder and looking bored. Wheeler stared defiantly back at the woman. She turned to address her son. "Take him back to his cell," she instructed, nodding to Kwame. "If he tries anything, you know what to do."

"Sure thing, mother. Looks like it's your lucky day," Stalker directed at Kwame, grabbing him under the arm. He pushed him forward, towards the door. Kwame shot Wheeler and Ma-Ti a final glance before allowing himself to be herded back to his cell.

"Can I get up now? My knees are killing me," interjected Wheeler. At a nod from Mame, Bleak easily hauled the American to his feet, retaining a strong grip around his upper arm.

"If you behave yourself and cooperate," said Mame, folding her arms across her chest, "Bleak here will go gentle on you. Wouldn't want him to  _slip_  now."

Taking his cue, Bleak unsheathed a Butterfly knife, effortlessly twirling the blade open. Wheeler swallowed uneasily, his eyes trained on the knife as Bleak, sneering, moved behind him. Unsure of what to expect, the American stood still and silent. Ma-Ti paled at the sight.

Wheeler felt the cool edge of the blade against his wrists and it was an effort not to flinch. He almost shuddered as hot breath hit the back of his neck, Plunder's lackey uncomfortably close. A sudden tug and the ropes binding his wrists were cut free. Exhaling, he couldn't help but take a quick look, as he rubbed his chafed wrists, for blood.

Chuckling nervously he displayed his wrists to Mame and said, "Looks like I was a good boy."

"Indeed," Mame replied, drily. "Bleak, the rope." The stocky man tossed her a long length of rope and resumed his position between Wheeler and the door, twirling his knife menacingly. Mame caught the rope easily and proceeded to re-tie Wheeler's wrists, much to his dismay.

"Whoa, onto third base already? I'm flattered, Slaughter, but you know, it's considered polite to buy a guy dinner first." Wheeler winced as the thick cords rubbed against raw flesh, and warily watched as Slaughter threw the opposite end of the rope back to Bleak. He noted, for the first time, that a weight was fastened to the end the mercenary was fingering. He didn't like where this was going, and his instincts were confirmed as Bleak hurled the end of the weighted rope up and over a beam in the ceiling, first time.

"You, uh, seem to have some practice with that. I'm starting to get a disturbing picture of the two of you."

Bleak cast a glance toward Slaughter with a grimace. Mame merely smirked. With a nod from the woman Bleak hauled on the rope, and Wheeler's arms were wrenched upward.

"I should have guessed you were into 'B' and 'D'," Wheeler joked, masking his pain as Bleak tugged on the rope again. He clenched his fists as his arms were hauled above his head, his shoulders straining under the burdening of his weight. One final heave of the rope and only the balls of his feet touched the ground. Bleak securely tied the end of the rope onto a metal ring embedded in the stone wall and stood back, crossing his arms and looking smug.

"I'm starting to regret choosing you, Red," Mame said, irritably. "You talk too much. Let's see how long you can keep this up for, huh." She turned to Ma-Ti, who watched on in silence, guilt twisting his stomach. "Last call to save your pal."

"Bring it on, Slaughter. We'll never give in to you," spat Wheeler.

Mame glanced over her shoulder towards the American with a smirk before turning back to the youngest Planeteer. Ma-Ti simply squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. He could sense Wheeler's apprehension behind his nonchalance. The close proximity strengthened the bond, despite the absence of his team mate's ring. He prayed that Gi and Linka figured something out soon.

"Something tells me I'm going to enjoy this," said Slaughter, balling her fist with a grin as she stood before Wheeler.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some violence and language warning. The next chapter will be heavier (it is dark!fic after all).

Wheeler stirred to consciousness. Disoriented, he suffered a brief moment of alarm when he found he was unable to move. And then it all came painfully back to him: their capture, the cell, and being used as a punching bag in an attempt to break Ma-Ti. He groaned, in both pain and the realisation that it wasn't just a horrible dream, and they were still trapped in the nightmare.

Clenching his fists he hauled himself upright against the rope. His shoulders protested loudly, sending strips of lightning-hot pain up his arms. His legs had given out, shaking and cramping from standing on the balls of his feet, and he'd had little choice but to hang from the ropes. His legs still felt shaky and weary beneath him, but it at least offered some relief for his chafed wrists and stiff shoulders.

The effort left him panting. Closing his eyes he dropped his head back and caught his breath.  _Man, this sucks,_ he thought to himself. Every inch of his body hurt. His clothes clung to him, from both sweat and dried blood. His jeans made it feel like a sauna in the humidity.  _When we finally get outta here, I'm buying a pair of shorts_ , he vowed. He was also in for another round with the Dominatrix Duo, unless Linka and Gi managed to break them out before they paid him a visit. Lifting his head he squinted towards the little window, high in the wall. The sun was steadily rising, but the light had yet to reach its fingers into their dim cell. He really hoped the Eco-Villains weren't early risers.

Wheeler glanced towards the shadow of Ma-Ti's form. "Hey, Ma-Ti," he whispered hoarsely. "Hey, little buddy, you awake?" He tongued his lower lip as he listened for a reply, tasting blood where he'd opened his split lip anew. He flicked his eyes towards the window again, trying to gauge the time from the light filtering through. The thick foliage surrounding the ruins dappled the sunlight, making it difficult to tell. He had no idea how long he'd been out for either. "Ma-Ti," he called, louder. "Sorry man, but I need you to wake up. Ma-Ti!"

The Heart Planeteer jerked awake, chains jingling at his movement. He winced as the throb of a headache reignited. Blinking, Ma-Ti tried to focus on Wheeler's trussed figure, illuminated by a weak beam of golden sunlight that managed to reach the centre of the room. He paled at the sight, feeling remorse and guilt. "I am so sorry, Wheeler," said Ma-Ti in a weak voice.

"Dude, it's not your fault," replied the American easily. "Those sick bastards have really outdone themselves this time, though. How you pulling up, little buddy?"

"Better than you, I would say. My head throbs, but I will be ok."

"Any word from the girls?" Wheeler asked hopefully.

Ma-Ti shook his head ruefully. "No. I will try to get in touch with them." He closed his eyes and clenched his restrained fist. The headache intensified as he tried to concentrate and he groped for his power. He could feel it, just beyond his reach. He concentrated harder, refocusing his mind. " _H-hea-_ " he stammered as the pain bloomed inside his skull. "I…I cannot reach them," he groaned.

Concern flitted briefly across Wheeler's features. "Plan B?" He glanced up at the rope tethering him to the beam above.

"What is Plan B?" asked Ma-Ti with a quizzical frown.

"I was hoping you would know."

The boy shook his head with a small shrug. "We just have to hope that Linka and Gi find a way to rescue us."

"Is it a stretch to hope they do it before the Torture Twins come back?" Wheeler asked cynically.

Ma-Ti winced. In truth he couldn't even sense the two Planeteers. He held tightly to the belief that it was the result of all the evil around him, not because something had befallen them. Even Kwame was difficult to sense, separated as they were by cold stone walls. Linka and Gi were their only hope of getting out of here. Unless he gave Plunder and Mame what they wanted. He glanced up to where Wheeler hung, tears pricking his eyes at the sight. How much more could his friend endure? Would the Eco-Villains give up, realising it was futile? He scoffed at that; it was as much about torturing them all as it was forcing him to do their bidding. When Wheeler was broken they would delight in Ma-Ti's torment and move on to Kwame. He thought of Gaia and wondered if she would help if it came to that.  _Could_  she help? He breathed a sob and swallowed, hanging his head.

"Hey bud," Wheeler said gently. "It'll be ok. We'll be outta here in no time. And don't worry 'bout me. I'm from Brooklyn, remember?" he said with a grin.

Ma-Ti smiled weakly at his optimism. He wiped his face against his shoulder before pulling himself upright, flinching as the metal cuffs rubbed against his swollen wrists. At least he had a little slack on the chain, which is more than was obliged to Wheeler. Glancing up at the little window above him, he said, "It looks like morning is underway. It would not surprise me if Looten Plunder and Mame Slaughter paid us a visit soon."

Wheeler raised a brow as he followed Ma-Ti's gaze. "You can tell?"

The boy grinned. "I am from the Rainforest, remember?" The American chuckled.

"Too bad you don't have some of that Shaman magic," he added wryly.

They sat in silence, listening to the Sumatran forest. The area surrounding the ruins remained untouched, no doubt to keep the villains' hideaway a secret, and also thanks to the difficult terrain. Grasshoppers droned, and birds called and chirped and tittered. A gibbon sang in the distance, its haunting whooping cry answered in kind. All this would be lost if they didn't stop Plunder and Slaughter. So much of the rainforest was already gone; so many animals killed or forced to find new territory, competing for habitat and resources in a space not large enough to contain them all. Mame would see to that, picking off any animal she could sell to the highest bidder and slaughtering anything else to maintain a controlling grip on the market.

The evidence they had been collecting to force the government into action had been captured along with them. Bleak had made short work of it. All those hours spent photographing and mapping, documenting and trekking, gone in less than five seconds. If they got free – no,  _when_  they got free – they would just have to do what they could to regain that information.

Wheeler grunted as he was forced once more to let himself hang from the rope. Bleak had sneered as he had followed Mame from the dungeon, saying, "N'night. Enjoy your rest, sweetheart," and had glanced meaningfully at the cord. "We'll be back bright 'n early," and the door had slammed shut and a heavy bolt had thudded into place. Wheeler had been too winded to reply, hanging and panting and bloody. He had soon realised that they had no intention of giving him relief from his bindings and had left him to stand tip-toe, or hang under his own weight by his wrists.  _It'll take more than that_ , he had told himself. Though in truth, he was really getting tired of being suspended. What he wouldn't give just to lie down – hell, even to sit down. To add to his discomfort was the burgeoning need to urinate. He grimaced. Little chance he was going to be allowed that freedom. He sighed to himself. Deal with it later, and in the meantime clench and think of deserts.

They both looked up at the sound of the door unlocking. Wheeler clenched his fists reflexively.

"Good morning," said Plunder silkily as he strode into the room. Mame and Stalker sauntered in behind him, smirking. "How are we this morning?"

"A little disappointed in the room service," retorted Wheeler. "I ordered bacon and eggs and instead they bring me your ugly face."

Plunder smiled humourlessly. "Now, now. Where are your manners? So ungrateful for our hospitality," he tisked.

"Eat a bag of dicks, Plunder," spat Wheeler, his eyes flashing.

"I don't think so. I ate quite a hearty breakfast. Now, where was I? Oh, that's right. I had come to offer clemency. All you have to do is beg and give us what we want. It's quite simple, really. But since you seem so… disinclined to cooperate, I think perhaps you need a little more persuading to see things our way." The businessman smiled darkly.

Ma-Ti suddenly spoke up, his eyes defiant. "You will not get away with this. Once the government knows of your illegal logging and poaching-"

"The government?" scoffed Plunder. "The government already knows. They just don't care. What you eco-geeks don't seem to understand," he continued, leaning in close to Ma-Ti, "is there will  _always_  be people like me. You think I'm the only one that seeks to make a profit? That's childish idealism. Remove me and someone else will fill my place. There will always be poaching, deforestation, pollution, corruption. You can never win against the greed of humanity. The only way to create this world you dream of is to remove humankind from it entirely. I have a feeling that's not something you're willing to do to save your precious Earth." Ma-Ti looked away. Plunder straightened, tugging his suit-jacket straight with a smug smile.

"Now, I have some business to attend to. I am a busy man." He glanced to Mame. "I trust you can take care of things here?"

Mame's mouth flattened into a thin line and her eyes glinted dangerously. "I'd let you stay and watch, Looten," she replied curtly, "but you'd only get in the way." Stalker sniggered. Plunder slid his eyes to glare at him and the man stopped. The woman stared at him flatly, waiting for him to leave, her arms crossed over her breasts.

Plunder smoothed a hand across his hair and cleared his throat. "Have fun, Planetoids," he said to the captives, and moved towards the door. He paused and turned back. "Oh. I almost forgot. I have Bleak organising a little surprise for you. If you're good little boys I might let you have a sneak-peek." He grinned, and turned and left. The two Planeteers looked at each other, puzzled and concerned.

Mame Slaughter turned her attention to the Fire Planeteer. She smiled menacingly. "I've got my own treat for you, Red. I think you're gonna enjoy it."

"It's like all my Christmases have come at once," the American replied, sarcastically.

The woman turned to her son and tipped her head towards the door. Stalker blinked stupidly before recognition passed across his face. "Sure thing, mother." He grinned at Wheeler – who returned the look with one of bemusement – and disappeared from the room.

You're gonna love what we have in store for you. Both of you," Mame added, casting a look at the boy. Ma-Ti was reminded of a circling shark, with her toothy grin, with her slow measured steps around the room as she edged closer to Wheeler with predatory intent and patience.

"You kids have been a real pain in my ass. You've fucked up practically every one of my schemes, every one of my business transactions-"

" _Shady_  business transactions," corrected Wheeler. Mame waved a hand dismissively and stepped behind him. His neck prickled from her closeness.

"Now it's pay back. And you know what they say…" She grabbed a fistful of Wheeler's hair. He grunted as she pulled his head back.

"You're a bitch alright," Wheeler muttered through clenched teeth.

Mame sneered and leaned in close, her mouth beside his ear. "Oh I haven't even begun, yet." Wheeler grimaced as she breathed the words into his ear, hot and stagnant. She pulled away, shoving his head roughly as she did. The woman came to stand in front of him, arms crossed and legs slightly apart. The intensity of her gaze was unsettling, her dark eyes promising pain and humiliation. Wheeler defiantly glared back.

The woman smiled wickedly, relishing the torment she was silently inflicting on both of them. She slipped a knife free from the sheath at her hip. She held the blade up for Wheeler to see but remained standing where she was. Wheeler glanced to the knife. He tried to read her expression, anticipate what her move would be. She gave nothing away. She was drawing the moment out, allowing the tension to build. It was working. He gripped the rope, his muscles tense.

Mame sauntered forward, slapping the blade against her palm. "You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy this."

Two more steps and she was within range. The rope creaked as Wheeler suddenly hauled himself against the ropes and drew his legs up for a kick to her middle. His aim was off; he'd under-estimated the bruising to his rips and stomach. Instead of sending the woman sprawling Mame merely staggered a few steps with an  _ooph_. She recovered herself with a dark scowl.

"That," she hissed, "was a mistake."

"Well, obviously. You were meant to land on your ass."

Wheeler barely had time to brace for the heavy punch to his stomach. He was still recovering when he felt the blade against his throat. He swallowed and glared at the woman. Ma-Ti held his breath and watched on wide-eyed. Wheeler's pain and anxiety mixed with his own.

"You kill me and you'll get nothing," the American said through gritted teeth, aware of the blade point pressing into his neck. His voice shook slightly, betraying his unease. He wouldn't put it past Slaughter to live up to her namesake.

Mame laughed darkly. "I'm not gonna kill you. The fun's only beginning. Why would I end it before it's barely begun!" She leaned close, putting pressure on the knife and forcing Wheeler to tilt his head back. A drop of blood welled beneath its point. "You will feel pain. The boy will feel your pain. You will beg for me to end it. You will beg your friend here to give in just to make it stop. I will make you all pay for what you have cost us. And I will enjoy every single goddamn moment of it."

"You obviously don't know me and my friends very well," hissed Wheeler.

"Everyone has their limits. Let's find out how far yours go, shall we?" She grinned at him, her eyes dark with malice. She released the pressure of the knife and took a step away. Wheeler relaxed slightly and exhaled.

Mame Slaughter turned her attention to the huddled form of Ma-Ti. She sneered at his obvious distress. "You're gonna want to watch this,  _Heart boy._ Your buddy is enduring all this for you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warning ahead for this chapter - things do get pretty rough, and this chapter contains physical violence and torture.

He tasted blood, felt it running down the back of his throat; the thick metallic tang made him feel nauseous. That could also be from the numerous blows to the stomach he had received, though, he thought. One particularly vicious thump from Mame had left him winded and heaving. The precious little water he’d been given throughout the hours of the beatings - it felt like it must have been hours, but he honestly had no idea - had ended up spilled across the flagstones and down the front of his t-shirt.

He tiredly wondered if his nose was broken. His face felt such a mixture of swollen numbness and aching pain it was hard to tell what was going on with it. He was fairly certain he had one or two fractured ribs. With his arms stretched above him, bearing his weary weight, it was difficult enough to breathe comfortably, but with each deep inhalation came a sharp, piercing pain. Bleak had driven the blow that left him gasping, his ribs popping under the mercenary’s fist.

Sweat dripped from the end of his nose – mixing with blood as it hit the floor – and plastered his hair to the nape of his neck and temples. He could hear Ma-Ti’s sobs and the clinking of chain as the boy tried to pull himself into a ball. The room stank of blood and vomit and sticky sweat, and urine.

“Your friend here ain’t looking too good, _kid,_ ” sneered Mame. Ma-Ti could only shake his head and wail louder, clenching his hands into little fists.

“It’s not that bad,” Wheeler lied. “I bet I still look better than you do.” His words were slurred and thick. Shallow breaths, don’t focus on the pain. _Hope Island, hot dogs, Linka’s kiss…_

“Well then,” replied the woman, suddenly close. “I guess you’re ready for some more.” Her blade appeared and Wheeler tensed reflexively. Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt she swiftly sliced open the material, the tip of the blade leaving a thin red trail along his stomach and chest. Blood began to well along the line.

“You owe me a new shirt,” he retorted, weakly. Fatigue mixed with panic; the expectation of more pain.

_Hope Island, hot dogs, Linka’s kiss. Hope Island, hot dogs, Linka’s kiss…_

“Uh uh uhh,” Mame tisked, “No drifting off now. You’re gonna want to stay awake for this bit.” She grinned wickedly and turned to Ma-Ti. “I’ve always wondered whether you little shits had any resistance to your elements. How about we find out, hmm?” Ma-Ti looked up and blanched. The woman had picked up a glowing hot poker from what looked like a portable barbeque that Stalker Slaughter had wheeled in.

“Let’s see if you still think you’re hot stuff, Red.” She waved the burning rod in front the Fire Planeteer. He felt the heat radiating against his bared chest, and grit his teeth at the malicious glint in the Eco-Villain’s eye. He steeled himself. He didn’t want to give the bitch the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, and he doubted he had any resistance to fire, if his past experiences were anything to go by. _Hope Island, hot dogs, Linka’s kiss. Hope Island, hot dogs, Linka’s ki—_

Sizzling flesh, white streaks of blinding pain his mantra couldn’t block out. The muscles in his arms bunched as he clenched his fists around the ropes. His scream filled the room, and Ma-Ti fainted.

* * *

 Kwame huddled in his confined cell, his throat dry and scratchy from thirst, and his stomach cramping painfully. His head pounded, and with each new harsh cry carried down the echoing passageway the thumping at his temples increased. He pressed his palms over his eyes and tried to push away the images of what might be occurring in the other room.

He looked up at the sound of a latch sliding; not his door, but somewhere nearby. The door he and Wheeler had been pushed through after their capture. Footsteps thudded across the stones; three, no was that four pairs of feet? Raised, protesting voices reverberated towards him and his heart sank.

* * *

 Ma-Ti came to slowly, with ringing in his ears. The ringing dulled to inaudible muffled murmurs and the pain inside his skull began to spread. The murmurs turned to words and rich, cackling laughter. He slowly opened his eyes to the dim light in the room and waves of nausea washed over him. The throbbing intensified and he suddenly heaved, vomiting up bile and saliva. More laughter.

He couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes to the centre of the room. He could hear Wheeler panting, and suddenly the stench of burning flesh and scorched hair hit him, and he heaved again, his stomach painfully empty. His ring felt heavy, so heavy, and the pain inside his head made his vision swim. He took a shuddering breath and slowly looked to the slumped figure hanging in the middle of the room. Even in the dimness he could see the Fire Planeteer’s body shaking; with pain and fatigue and shock. Sobs wracked his small frame at the sight of his beaten, bruised and bloody friend. Raw and blistered and charred skin spread below the line of his ribs, and Ma-Ti’s stomach threatened to heave again.

They were going to kill him. Plunder and Mame would kill Wheeler and it would be his fault for not helping them. And then they would kill Kwame, slowly and painfully. He suddenly hated his ring, hated the power he had been gifted. He couldn’t help his friends, so what use was he? The ring amplified the pain and hatred and evil, but could not provide any of the goodness it was meant to offer. The boy shook his head. The fear and anxiety mixed with the negativity and viciousness to form a heavy haze that settled around him, sapping his strength and hope. There was no hope. Gaia could not help them. The girls could not help them. They had no way out this time. Unless he gave in to Looten Plunder and Mame Slaughter’s demands… and doomed the animals to death, or worse. He could see no way out, and everything seemed hopeless.

“I see you’ve decided to rejoin us,” came Slaughter’s voice. Ma-Ti remained sullen and quiet. “I hope you’ll stay awake for Act Two. Such a shame you missed his opening performance; he was really on _fire_.” She laughed heartily at her own joke.

She reached for the poker, nestled amongst glowing coals in the portable barbeque. Waving it before herself and turning to Ma-Ti she said, “If you’d prefer, you can skip the show and give us what we want. No refunds, though, I’m afraid.” She smiled darkly, her face bathed in orange light.

The boy swallowed and rubbed his thumb over his ring. He glanced to Wheeler, who appeared to be semi-conscious, and hanging limply from his tethers. He needed Gaia. What was he to do? He couldn’t stand watching Wheeler suffer any more at the hands of this terrible woman. But to be responsible for the fate of all the animals… It was all too much. “Please, please just stop,” he wailed. “Please stop doing this. Please! I cannot help you. Just let him go, _please_?” He looked into her dark, inky eyes, pleading with her with all of himself. She faltered for a moment. It was only a moment, and then she scowled, gripped the handle of the iron poker tightly in her fist and suddenly turned and jammed the heated end into Wheeler’s shoulder.

Wheeler’s voice cracked as he cried out.

“F-fuck you, you crazy bitch,” he gasped, when she dropped the poker back into its hot bed of coals. Sparks shot up in the gloomy cell. He panted heavily, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Ma-Ti braced himself against the onslaught of fury and suffering, and focussed on the one tiny, barely glowing spark that was suddenly there. The sounds of Mame’s threats and malice slid away into the background, and the boy studied the spark, drawing closer to it, trying to identify it. Suddenly he knew what he had to do, though he felt ill and the throbbing in his head only grew worse. He swallowed, clenched his fist, and tried to send hope and resolve towards Wheeler.

The door suddenly opened and Plunder strode into the room, followed by Bleak, both looking smug. The woman crossed her arms at the interruption.

“Are we having fun yet?” Plunder suddenly drew in a sharp breath and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the American. He glanced towards Mame with a raised eyebrow. Bleak stood unflinching beside his boss.

"You look good today,” Wheeler mumbled. “Do something different with your hair?"

“Oh, so he _is_ still alive then, I see.” Plunder directed the comment towards the woman. “Good, I was rather hoping he would still get to enjoy the surprise I promised them.” He smiled darkly then turned to Bleak and gave him a nod. The mercenary grinned and left the room.

“I think you will get a real kick out of this one.”


End file.
